Hospitality
by SlytherinElektra
Summary: Loki is found on Earth by SHIELD, and receives their particular branch of hospitality. The Avengers are not too happy. Loki!whump and angst.
1. Chapter 1

When they found him, he was crying, but the Agents showed him nothing that resembled compassion.

They bound him and threw him on the back of a van, all the while telling him that he was going to regret coming to earth again. That he was going to be sorry for all he'd done. And then, softly, and more closely, they told him that when they were finished with him he was going to wish he was never born.

They didn't need to do much for that – Loki already felt that way.

They left him alone in an interrogation room, handcuffed and barely able to move, chained to the floor with a very short chain. No one paid any importance to his wounds or the small trail of blood he was leaving behind him as he arrived. These Midgardians only cared to know if he was a threat – no, not if he was a threat, but what kind of threat he was, because they would never think that he could be anything else but evil. If he was there, there must have been a reason for his coming there. A harmful, terrible reason.

Fury came to the room, more than once, and asked what was his plan, who were his allies, how he had arrived to earth, how he had escaped imprisonment. He was not kind.

Loki said he didn't remember. Nobody believed him.

He only knew that he couldn't seem to use his magic anymore, and this thought depressed him like no other.

They tried more "_effective_" ways of interrogation but Loki never changed his version. He had told them, those humans, that they wouldn't get any more information, but they did try. It was no use – Loki was no stranger to torture, and he had suffered worse than the punishment these captors had concocted. He still cried, occasionally. The sadness was embedded in him, inerasable. But he tried to be whole and dignified when his interrogators came. Maybe at some point they would finally move him to a cell with a bed. Or maybe that was just asking for too much.

He slept very little and was often plagued by nightmares. Sometimes he wished he could just rest because he felt tired all the time. Constantly. And there were no places to rest in his little interrogation room, only two chairs, a table and a horrible enormous mirror in which he could see his awful reflection staring back at him. He was pale, his wounds were beginning to get infected (damn this planet and its microbiological life) and he looked like someone on his deathbed. They had stripped him of his precious armor, and was wearing now only a back cotton t-shirt and matching pants. No shoes.

He spent a lot of the time with his eyes closed, to avoid his reflection. Fury and the rest didn't like it, fearing he might need to have his eyes closed for some spell or to summon some army with his mystical powers. So they made him open his eyes, again and again, and he had to look at that reflection. Look at that failure of a person he had become. No, not even a person, he was beneath people of all kinds, as everybody enjoyed reminding him.

Nothing but a forsaken little monster.

After some time, they unchained him and he could move freely around the room. The first thing he did was sit with his back to the great mirror, so he wouldn't have to see his reflection ever again. He could sleep better, now that he was able to lie on the floor, even if his dreams were never pleasant.

They kept asking him things – things he couldn't answer.

After some more sessions of interrogation, Loki started to feel ill. His head hurt, pounded, he felt too cold and too hot at the same time, and he had terrible stomach pains. They didn't feed him much, but what they did, he was not able to keep down. He was sweaty and disgusting and in pain. At this point, Loki only wished to die.

Fury and the rest of SHIELD, fearing Loki might be to blame for a series of terrorist attacks while playing sick in his cell, called the Avengers to fill them in. They came relatively quickly, all except for Thor and Barton, who was in Asia on a mission. Thor was missing, and what was worse, so was his girlfriend, Jane Foster. No way of contacting them. Selvig told them that he had not heard of them for months.

The director told them how they found Loki a couple of months prior and how he kept refusing to talk. Then he told them about the attacks and why they thought Loki might be connected to them. It was all very circumstantial.

There was a video feed of the prisoner and Tony looked at it, with Steve behind him, while Romanoff and Fury discussed strategies. This looked nothing like the man they had defeated. This was a man in poor health, with many unattended wounds and an expression of pain in his face.

"I really hope he already had those wounds when you found him, Fury. All of them." Tony said, serious, interrupting the spies.

"We only did what was necessary to try to get him to talk, Stark. He is a terrorist. This is all strictly legal."

He had an idea of what Fury meant that they'd been _trying to get him to talk_ and the injuries the god sported (missing fingernails, what looked like chemical burns on his forearms…) only supported his theory. Sometimes he hated having anything to do with those guys.

Fury insisted that they were only doing what was necessary to get sensitive information.

"Using nice words doesn't change what this is, _Director._"

Bruce appeared form behind him, adjusting his glasses as he looked into the picture.

"That's Loki? What's wrong with him? Or what isn't." Bruce said, looking at the footage. "And you think that guy has been pulling the strings of a major terrorist network while doubling over in pain? I don't know. If that's an act it's the most convincing one I have seen."

"Wait" Natasha said, suddenly. "Where's Rogers?"

Only seconds later they saw the Captain in the video feed, sitting on the floor, with his back to the mirror, next to the prisoner.

"Hello, Loki. Remember me?"

Loki looked at the man and vaguely recognized him. He supposed this was next on the long line of interrogators. At least he wasn't carrying any further instruments to _interrogate_ him. Oddly enough, he hadn't brought anything to protect himself, either. No guns, no shields.

Loki nodded through pain-filled eyes.

"You don't look so good." The soldier mentioned.

Steve, looking at his former enemy, saw that in person he looked even worse than on the video. He was sweaty, too pale and thin and the long black hair stick to his neck. Not to mention the bruised look about his eyes or the many other small injuries that were visible. He was clutching his stomach with one hand and Steve could see that two of the fingernails were missing, the whole area surrounded by dried blood. Every now and then the alien closed his eyes and grabbed his stomach more forcefully while his other hand clutched his pants, trying to get free of the pain.

And no one was doing anything. This was no way of treating a prisoner.

Steve sighed and talked again.

"Why are you here, Loki? Why did you come to Earth?"

Maybe the soldier would believe his words – no harm in trying. Loki tried to breathe through the pain.

"I keep telling them - when I woke up, my magic was gone and I was here on Midgard. But I cannot recall what happened before it, or how I came to be here."

Steve nodded. Loki looked desperate enough to be telling the truth.

"So you have no harmful intentions."

"Even if I wanted to, I would not be able to do anything without my magic. I merely wish to know what happened. Is Thor with you?"

The Captain shook his head.

"We don't know where he is, I'm sorry. You have no idea of where he might be or how to contact him? Maybe he could shed some light on what you can't remember."

Loki looked at the Captain's blue eyes, hopeful. This particular mortal seemed to believe him. Could it be true? Could there be some hope for him left after all?

"I ignore where he is… I only remember flashes… something happened in Asgard. Heimdall is not answering me… But I think I could build a way of communication with your technology, if you would let me. And you could ask…"

Just then, he experienced the most intense pain so far, making him feel as if his stomach was being broken in little pieces and then burnt. He closed his eyes trying to control the scream of sheer pain caught in his throat. Why was this happening to him?

Maybe it was simply the fate he deserved. Even death was too sweet a punishment for him.

Steve watched, impotent, while Loki writhed in pain, clutching his stomach. Yes, Loki was dangerous, and yes, he should pay for his crimes, but leaving him in this cell while he was in agony (for whole days and weeks, even) was inhumane. And the pain was obviously not an act. He wished he could do something. Steve hated watching people suffer, no matter who they were.

While he was still lost in his pain Loki registered something cool in his forehead – a hand.

"God, you're burning up." Steve said.

He was liking this less and less. Loki was obviously quite sick, probably in a great part because of the terrible treatment he received from SHIELD. This was not right. Fortunately, he wasn't the only one to think that way. Just as the pain started to subside the door opened again and Stark appeared.

"Come on, sweaty. You're coming back to my place." He said.

"Why…?" Loki did not understand what was going on.

"Because I'm not going to sit back while a corporation I've worked for tortures someone. You come back to my place, we'll patch you up, you can build your space- communication thingie and maybe we'll understand what's going on."

"What about SHIELD?"

"SHIELD is dealing with a Hulk crisis right now, most of their men are on it. And Natasha has cleared a path for us. I honestly don't know why she's helping, but she is. But those cuffs stay put, just in case."

Steve nodded. THIS was the right thing to do. Not leaving a prisoner die without offering him a single glass of water.

"Can you walk?" He asked the god, who nodded. He offered his hand and Loki took it, but even with Steve's help it was difficult for him to stand. He almost wept with joy at the prospect of leaving that room for good.

They walked in silence, trying not to attract too much attention, through the building and heard the chaos the Hulk was causing. Tony smiled, despite the gloomy situation. This should teach them.

But before they even left the building the pain became too much and Loki closed his eyes, exhausted, and fell into the darkness.

The darkness always welcomed him.

A/N: I was sad, so I whumped Loki. Sorry, love!

Hope you liked. If you did, would you leave a small comment? Many thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

Loki passed out before they were even out of SHIELD and Steve had to stop his fall. He tried to wake him, softly tapping his face, but nothing happened. Loki remained unmoving and unresponsive, limp. Steve looked at Stark, with worried blue eyes.

"Don't worry Cap, we'll fix him up in a moment. That guy is not gonna die because of something SHIELD did, I tell you. You can carry him, right?"

"Sure."

Steve took the man in his arms, slightly concerned at how light he felt for such a tall guy. This was not good.

The people at SHIELD ran around them while the sound of alarms filled the air. No one seemed to look at them, which was a good thing. Tony knew this was going to cause them trouble with the agency, which was not a good thing. But to hell with them, to hell with everyone.

Tony just hoped the Hulk was doing a good number on the place. He wondered how many people had there been before Loki, how many people had said things that were not true, admitted to crimes they hadn't committed just to keep their _interrogators _away. It made him shiver. Just to be for one day in that hell was horrifying…. and Loki had been there for two months. Two whole fucking months. Stark noted the bruising on the eyes of the alien, and the infected gashes that were visible under his dirty black tee.

Gods. They were supposed to be the good guys.

When they reached the door, Natasha was there, calm as ever. She took a look at the three of them, expression unreadable as usual.

"Thanks for the help." Steve said, apparently not even a bit tired after carrying a six feet tall guy in his arms through half of SHIELD hq.

She simply nodded.

"Keep me posted on anything that happens, ok?"

Stark and Rogers nodded and then she was gone. A mystery, that woman.

One of Tony's limos was waiting for them and they got in there in silence. The driver asked no questions about the new addition. He had seen worse.

"What do you think, Cap? Is he telling the truth?" Tony asked, while his team-mate put the unconscious man in one of the seats.

"I…. maybe it's crazy, but I think so, yes. I really doubt he'd have stayed there if he had magic or could talk to Thor somehow. I think he's genuinely scared of what may have happened. Maybe it's me being too trusting… but there was definitely something different about him. About his eyes."

Tony nodded. There was something bigger going on there, bigger than Loki playing clueless.

The rest of the ride passed in relative silence. Loki never woke up.

When he did, he was in some short some of mechanical cage that moved vertically and he wasn't standing. He could feel something warm against him, something that moved slightly. Something alive with a heartbeat and a breathing. And a soft humming on the background. Loki did not understand, his mind too muddled by the fever and not yet fully awake. But he knew he wasn't in his cell anymore – and there was that strange sensation: his feet were not on the floor but he was not falling.

He cracked one eye open and saw blinding lights and what resembled a person. He could hear a faint voice in the distance.

"….think he's waking up, but…"

Someone was calling his name and it was painful, for some reason. Maybe it brought memories. It was just so blurry. He tried to move, but couldn't –his limbs were heavy and protested at the slightest movement. His head pounded and his stomach was on fire. Before he could utter a response to those blue eyes that looked at him so full of concern (_maybe Thor had finally forgiven him… maybe he still loved him, despite all he'd done_) his eyelids became too heavy and he was asleep again.

Steve looked at Stark next to him, who had seen Loki's almost awakening.

"I don't like this, Tony. What if something terrible has happened in their homeland and Thor is injured as well? Whatever happened left Loki powerless and without memories – could be a great threat."

Stark sighed. He had to admit Loki's unfocused eyes and his expression of pure pain had spooked him.

"Well, _what if_s will lead us nowhere, Cap. We'll have to wait to find out, until he awakes for real, at least."

When the elevator finally stopped, they got out of it in a "med wing" floor and Steve gently deposited his former enemy on one of the beds. He was unconscious, again, but sweating and moaning softly. He really, really, disliked this. What if Loki died from his wounds and then Thor appeared and decided to take down SHIELD and kill Fury, mad with grief? No, like Stark had said, speculation was no good. They should focus on the matter at hand.

Stark had started to put some devices on the god while the computer-voice (Steve had always found it terribly unsettling because it sounded completely like a person, a person with no body) said some data when the captain realized there was blood in his hands.

"He's bleeding."

JARVIS did a full body scan and informed them that the patient had three bleeding wounds at the moment, apart from two broken bones and twelve infected gashes and burns that required attention. Steve and Tony sighed, almost in unison, and started working.

They took out his shirt, carefully, and saw the terrible blue and purple chest and abdomen. They both knew what had to be done, so they started to clean, disinfect and dress the wounds and burns. Loki didn't react at all. They thought of taking out the cuffs, seeing how weak he seemed to be. Tony asked JARVIS to go through the footage SHIELD had of the man to see if there was anything suspicious. There wasn't. There was only a man in a cell, alone, with almost no food and an obvious disgust of his own reflection. They decided to take the cuffs off. He'd worn them for too long.

After a while Bruce came back and helped them with the medication for the infection, the doses and so forth. Fury kept calling, but Tony had made JARVIS ignore the calls. He was too angry to talk with the man after seeing what they had done with their prisoner.

Loki woke up again when he felt something extremely cold on his head. At first, he couldn't see anything, and felt confused. He was lying in something soft, for the first in months, for the first time since he arrived to that wretched planet. Could it be a bed? He opened his eyes and saw a white room he didn't recognize and three men in there, the one with blue eyes watching him. Then he remembered – his brother's allies, who had taken him from that cell. He felt cleaner, somehow.

And couldn't understand.

The words of his captors still rang in his ears. _You are worthless, a useless piece of scum, you are a waste of space, a futile, stupid little mistake and… _The pain in his stomach took him out of his thoughts, yet another reminder of how broken he was, how far from the proud prince he used to be he'd become. He tried to be ignore the pain and be whole again, talk to these people. There had to be some reason for them to be this kind and apparently caring. Something he wasn't seeing. He tried to sit up but the bed helped, moving with some sort of mechanism so he was facing his rescuers. The Avengers.

The soldier took the cloth from his forehead and looked at him.

"Loki? You with us?"

There was something about the blue… Thor. He remembered Thor falling, and he was screaming his name- not, it was him who fell, again, and Thor was looking at him, holding at his hand so he could reach…. He couldn't remember. It was all so blurred, so sketchy. He saw flashes of blood in his memories, but couldn't ascertain if it was his own. Maybe he didn't want to know.

"What… do you want from me?"

Surely they expected something in return for their efforts. These were too many kindnesses.

It was Stark who spoke up (no surprise there).

"Well, for starters, we wanted to undo some of the shit SHIELD has done to you. This is not right, not matter who you are. And then, when you look a bit less walking dead we want you to help us find out where the hell is Thor. Because I don't know about you guys, but to me, this whole no memory thing sounds like someone covering their tracks."

Loki looked at them with bright green eyes. Odd. None of them remembered them being so green.

"You believe me?" The god asked, as if it was the most impossible thing in the world. "Why….?"

But he was again interrupted by his own pain, again, when it reached an unbearable proportion.

Loki was barely aware of his surroundings while he clutched at his stomach with his hands, back arching, tears falling from the corners of his eyes. The world became a blur, the pain taking over everything else and spreading like fire. He couldn't seem to see or hear anything and barely registered movement around him. The fact that there were no more interrogations didn't mean his torture was over.

But there was movement around him and all sorts of alarm ringing as he writhed on his bed.

Steve looked at the scene in horror and shouted a "_Do something!" _in the general direction of his team mates, while Bruce desperately looked for some morphine. He injected the patient the biggest dose he thought safe but there was no immediate reaction.

Four eternal minutes passed before the pain subsided and three men watched powerless as their guest moaned and moved around the bed, trying to diminish the pain and obviously failing. Something was very wrong, something apart (but probably maximized) what SHIELD had done. Something darker.

"Bruce?" Out of all them, the physicist was the only one who had some medical knowledge.

"I… I don't know. I don't know what's wrong, I don't know how to fix. Antibiotics don't work, morphine doesn't either…"

"We can't just sit around and watch him suffer!" Steve said, horrified. There had to be something they could do. Loki looked even worse than when they picked him up, still sweaty and pale, but more ill somehow. After a while he decided to sit next to the sickbed, to see if he could provide any sort of comfort.

Tony and Bruce talked in the back, wondering what kind of mess they'd gotten themselves into.

Loki could see the lights and the darkness, felt the taste of blood in his mouth.

He could hear the screams. And he was on fire.

There were blue eyes watching him. He spoke in broken whispers.

"Thor… you came for me?… I… am sorry….Please, just…. Don't let them hurt me anymore… I cannot bear it… I….Brother…"

Steve took his shaky hand and held it tightly on his own. Trying to show him that someone was there, that somebody cared. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that Loki had been alone and abandoned more than once. Yes, he was a criminal, but he was also in unspeakable pain and if being there helped in the slightest, then that's where he would be.

Loki wished his mind was clearer, but he only knew pain. At least his brother was there, he hadn't forsaken him like the rest of them. He was there after all.

"Thor… help me."

A/N: Whumpfest, part two.

Reviews are lovely and very welcome.

If you liked, why not comment? Thanks in advance!


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce Banner did not like giving up. He liked helping people with his rusty medical skills, no matter who they were or in which conditions they lived. He liked helping the people that the rest of the people didn't help, because part of himself felt he was redeeming himself for The Hulk, one person at a time. That's why he kept trying to find an answer, a way for his patient to be cured. That's why he wouldn't leave when Tony told him to take a break, leave it alone for a bit.

No. Loki was his patient and he had a responsibility to him. He was not going to let him just waste away and stay in agony for hours and hours. He would help – wouldn't stop until he'd done some sort of improvement in the god's wretched state. He would prove everyone (and himself) once again, that there was a man and not only a monster. A man with values and a moral code. A man who had become a doctor. A healer.

He tried all the painkillers he could think of, risking even dangerous interactions. Eventually, the other two Avengers left the room to manage the situation with the outside world. Bruce just remained there, with the only company of a pale and delirious god and a bodiless voice. At first Loki didn't seem to be reacting to the meds and just thrashed on his sheets with unfocused eyes.

Until he started throwing them up, that is. The Asgardian was limp and looked incredibly fragile as Bruce cleaned the vomit. And he couldn't bring down that fever, no matter how hard he tried. It was looking quite ugly.

Eventually, and with the help of some experimental painkillers Bruce suspected were still illegal, he succeeded in calming Loki's inexplicable abdominal pains a bit. Enough that, at least, Loki could go back to sleep, to something that resembled calm. Enough to erase that expression of pain from his features, if only a bit. Happy with it, and seeing that it was already midnight, Bruce left, asking JARVIS to inform him if the vitals got worse again.

When Tony woke up he realized in a matter of seconds that he wasn't going to get anymore sleep. That he was awake for good. And it was only four in the morning. Shit. Another day in which he was going to have to function with coffee and other stimulants. And in this day he was probably going to have to deal with Fury and his agents, lecturing him, telling him what he'd done was illegal, that he was harboring a criminal, blah, blah, blah. It gave him a headache just to think about it. He asked JARVIS what his guest was doing.

They were risking a lot for him, he better not be doing anything evil.

"The guest awoke two hours ago and has been looking out of the window for the past ninety-seven minutes." The voice informed him.

Weird.

Without thinking too much about it, Tony poured a couple of drinks and headed to the infirmary. Loki still looked like hell, pale and bandaged and sweaty, the only color in his face being the slight fevered flush of his cheeks and the pale green of the weary eyes. The computer had informed him that he had slept even less than him. But at least now he was able to stand straight.

Tony appeared next to him, in front of the window. There was a nice view of New York down there, but nothing that would justify such constant attention.

"Scotch?"

Loki took the drink while trying to avoid Stark's gaze. He felt ill, weak and pathetic- not at all prepared to face the questions of an enemy.

"So… you feeling better?"

"The pain is still there, but at least now I am able to stand and think again." He said with a tired voice.

"Not happy thoughts?" Stark asked, noticing the hastily but badly wiped tear stains on the taller man. Loki just looked down. "You can tell me, if you want. Not gonna judge. I may be all heroic and nice now, but that wasn't always the case."

Loki wanted to be cold and detached, wanted to tell Stark to leave, that he didn't need his pity or his fake understanding. That he was not going to talk about his troubles with a stranger, that he was only a useless mortal. But it had been so long since someone had said a kind word to him… He wasn't foolish enough to believe that Stark cared, but maybe that was a good thing. And besides, Loki had started to fear that if he kept all these things in bottled in his head, he would lose the little sanity he had left. Not good.

So he spoke.

"I can't seem to stop crying these days. I used to be unmovable, a column. People insulted in the most hurtful ways and I just glared at them. And now…. I have become a little whining babe, unable to control myself."

Tony just sipped his scotch. He had noticed how weepy Loki had been on the SHIELD footage, but thought it was a result of the torture. Loki, apparently, didn't share his opinion.

"You think it has to do with whatever happened?"

Loki kept looking at New York. A column, just like he'd said. Only the unnatural brightness of his eyes gave away his depressive state.

"It is a protection mechanism of the mind, in Asgard at least, the blocking of memories. I wouldn't have let anybody tamper with my mind – it is the only valuable thing I ever had. But if I did something unspeakable, something that not even my mind, as corrupt as it is, could handle, then I would shut the memories out. Forget them. Forget the suffering."

"You're afraid you've killed him. Killed Thor and his girlfriend."

Loki looked at him for the first time.

"But I should be happy, shouldn't I? It's what I always wanted. Get him out of way, so people would finally see me… I thought it was what I desired for so long… But now, the thought of actually having done it, killed him with my own hands, it- it disgusts me… I… I can only weep. Pathetic."

Loki sipped his drink and kept staring at the city.

Maybe this was all a play, a way of making Tony be sympathetic. Or maybe it was not, and the alien was talking because he was out of place, out of time, and he hadn't had a friendly ear in god knows how long.

Tony felt he was starting to see now many things about the crazed alien, about his motives. About who the guy really was behind the mockery and the threats. And he was in a bad place.

"There's other reasons for blocking memories, too." Tony said. "Maybe you didn't do something that broke your brain, maybe you just witnessed it. Or maybe something particularly horrible was done to you. Ever thought of that?"

Loki did not answer, lost in his thoughts, feeling useless. He didn't know what to do with himself. His body was in agony and his mind was in shambles. He was at the mercy of enemies who could turn him back to _interrogations_ any moment they wanted. Thor's allies. What would happen if he was right and Thor was no more? He would spend the rest of his sorry life trapped in this planet, imprisoned, in the worst conditions imaginable, surrounded only by hate and repulsion, and by the knowledge that there wasn't a soul on the whole nine realms that did not want his death. He sighed again.

"If it is not much to ask, Stark, could you direct me to a bath?"

"Sure."

The millionaire took him to an enormous bathroom and told him to ask JARVIS if he needed anything else.

The bath was quite easy to operate, and Loki was soon immersed in perfumed water. He would've fallen asleep if it wasn't for the voice on the walls, that advised against it, due to possibility of drowning. Well, at least it would have been a nice way to go. And he would have left a very clean body for the Avengers to find.

It was still dark in New York when he got out. It was one of the best things for him, having windows, a world outside his torment. But the pain threatened to be back, never relenting. He hardly remembered those days when he was whole, even if they were only a couple of months prior.

He closed his eyes. He was just so tired.

"What have I done to deserve this life, JARVIS?" He asked, because JARVIS was a machine, and it wouldn't judge." Will I have to spend my last days in an unfriendly planet, pretending to be who I am not anymore and forever suspecting the motives of every person that does not torture me?"

"I can't answer you that, but I can direct you to the medication that Banner used and seemed to have some effect on you."

Loki thanked the voice and injected himself with the drug. He knew that probably his body would become used to it and be rendered useless but he could enjoy the calming effect while it lasted. With the help of JARVIS he prepared some tea, glad to taste something that was not disgusting, for the first time in months.

At six am, the Captain appeared and an awkward silence spread in the room. They didn't know what to do, how to behave. There was still an aura of suspicion in the soldier's eyes and Loki couldn't blame him. He was a criminal, after all. He had possibly killed one of his beloved team-mates. There was no reason for him to be trusted, or even liked.

His thoughts went back to his not-brother. Oh, if he would show his oafish face in the building then he'd be able breathe much better. _You should be glad you've killed him. _A voice in his head said. _Not sorrowful. Nobody would shed a tear if you passed_, he reminded himself, _they would celebrate, even these mortals._ They had rescued him but now he felt like a burden.

With the morning came more people, more awkwardness and more questions. Loki still looked like a walking corpse and had a dangerous fever, but at least he was more aware of what was going on around him. Even if the uncertainty was quite terrible, at least now there were no more enormous mirrors, no more chains no more interrogations. Not that pity and condescension were much better, but at least now he had tea.

The Avengers were wary around him – there was a strange tension mixed with pity.

Tony wasn't a big fan of this situation, so he decided to change it. The Avengers couldn't trust Loki – not a single word he said, with his history, and the alien was in some sort of personal hell not knowing what had happened. Not knowing how he'd ended up here. Not knowing what he'd done, what terrible thing he could have done to break his mind. So he decided to find a solution.

The solution was coming in the elevator as Bruce and Steve talked in hushed tones and Loki looked at his tea, lost in his thoughts. Tony greeted the man as he came out of the elevator and introduced him to the rest.

"Guys, let me introduce to Professor Xavier – he's going to help us with our little Loki situation."

Steve looked confused.

"How?"

"Guy's a mind-reader. Thought he could give us and him some piece of mind if he could a) confirm us that Loki doesn't remember shit b) maybe see whatever's left in his mind, blocked or not, of what happened before or c) tell us that he's actually a dickhead faking the whole thing."

"I can speak for myself, Mr. Stark." Xavier said from his wheelchair, with a chastising tone. He introduced himself to the Avengers and then moved on to Loki.

The man looked terribly sick, but there was still a very proud expression on his face, in the way he carried his body, almost… royal. Loki looked at the stranger, suspicious but welcoming. He seemed intelligent. And if he helped clear the fog of his mind, make some sense of the flashes that were his only memories of the recent future, then he was more than welcome.

"Hello, Mister Odinson."

Loki shook his head, strongly. He was no son of Odin – it all had been an illusion- and Odin had become his main torturer.

"Call me Loki." He muttered, darkly. His voice was a bit cracked and he wondered if he had screamed in his brief hours of sleep. The older man drew a small smile.

"Loki, then. I hear you've been having trouble with your memory." The other man nodded. "Will you let me help?"

"Do whatever necessary."

Stark had introduced this man as a Professor, and if there was something that Loki respected, it was knowledge.

Xavier put his hands near Loki's head, each hand close to each temple, closed his eyes and got into the other mind. It was incredible – it was unstopping and vast as the universe. It was numbers and formulas, spells and laughs, it was spacewalking and being bullied, it was books, it was looks, it was being defeated, it was Thor, it was shape shifting and being women, animals, it was hurt, it was being rejected on the edge of an abyss… Absolute chaos. In all his years going to other people's minds, Xavier had never experienced like this. He opened his eyes.

"Try to concentrate on your memories, Loki. Focus on what happened between New York and appearing here. Can you do that?"

Loki nodded silently.

Xavier saw a blur of memories – mostly torture and him being called many bad names. Not exactly what they were looking for, but the professor couldn't blame him, when one's mind is filled with sickness it's difficult to concentrate. Especially when you're supposed to focus on a blank. But through it all, the professor saw flashes, bits, very blurry bits of Asgard.

There was Loki, almost passed out on a pool of blood. But whose blood was it?

There was Thor and a woman, fighting – and suddenly they were screaming his name - _Loki!- _with terrible urgency.

There was a one-eyed man telling him he would pay for what he'd done and there was rage.

And then the scene changed completely and Xavier saw something that shook him to the core. This changed things in a way he had not expected. His eyes widened and Loki tilted his head backwards, sick to his stomach.

"You saw nothing, old man. Nothing." He said, and his voice trembled – badly.

"Loki, I'm so sorry, if you had-" But he was cut off by Loki's screaming.

"Don't you dare pity me! That was not true! Not true! Only the lies of a lying mind! Do not dare think otherwise! I chose it! All of it! It was my doing… my doing…"

And he stormed off, swaying, not wanting to break down on front of the others. He could feel the tears in his eyes and the pain slicing him again. No one was supposed to see that. No one was supposed to know that.

The rest of them looked at the mind-reader, not knowing if they should be curious or scared.

"What the hell was that about?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, what did you see, sir?" Steve asked. "Was something about Thor?"

The professor was still shocked and looked down, trying to stomach what he had seen, but he answered.

"It was about the invasion, about New York… It seems things were much more complicated than we initially thought."

A/N: As usual, I don't even know what I'm doing anymore.

Here you have little bits of plot, emotional whump, a twist, and Loki and JARVIS being kinda friends because britishness.

Hope you enjoyed. Reviews are very much appreciated ;)


	4. Chapter 4

There was silence in the room for a bit. Tony, Bruce and Steve looked at each other, and then at the man in the wheelchair. This was unexpected.

"What do you mean, more complicated? Complicated how?" Steve asked, confused.

That Professor had apologized to Loki, who had said that he shouldn't be pitied and that it all had been his doing. Could they had been wrong all that time? Could Loki had not been the sole party to blame for the terrors of the invasion? To be honest, Loki had looked more like a victim than anything else since they found him on SHIELD. Steve tried to remember that he was a criminal, to be punished and not pitied… But it was getting harder. He looked at the Professor, who was struggling to find the right to explain what he'd seen. And heard. And felt.

But he couldn't, couldn't explain correctly – couldn't find an answer. What he'd seen...

It was like explosions in one's head. Trying to discern what was true, what was really you and what was everything else. Thinking that it had indeed been just you all the time, and then having little moments of lucidity that told you otherwise. Moments in which you looked at your hands and couldn't understand how or why they had done what they'd done, even if it had been you who ordered them around.

This was not exactly mind control, Xavier knew. It was different than most previous cases he'd seen – or anything he'd read. Barton's report, for example, had described a situation in which he was aware of what he was doing, but couldn't break free. And Selvig… he'd been granted moments of lucidity (on purpose) so he would put that cut-off mechanism. Loki had seen it (and Xavier had seen it with him), the flaw in his masterplan and had done nothing about it. That was his lucid part.

A part that hated the Chitauri to no end. They were monsters, monsters that reminded him of own monstrosity. It had seemed a good opportunity, at first, a loyal army to follow him. But there had been a high price – the orders, the threats and that ever-increasing fog in his mind. And the voices, of course. At first he thought it was his own mind screaming at him. Now he wasn't so sure.

And Xavier had been there with him. He'd been in that chaos of a mind looking down at New York being destroyed by the Chitauri and hating it, hating them, hating himself. He'd wanted to rule that planet, not destroy it. And there were a thousand more cleaner ways to do than that. But why did he let them in? The Professor heard Loki thinking, wondering if they had used him, those monsters, the other, and the one he served, used him to gain access to Earth. Which would make him the scapegoat. Xavier had been there for a second, trying to dispel the fog in the mind but unable.

Convincing himself that it had been him, all his actions, all his terrible choices. Because the alternative was too horrible. The alternative meant that his mind, his only valuable thing, had been poisoned and that he'd been nothing but a pawn. That not even his will was his.

Slowly, the mind reader tried to explain.

"The Chitauri were influencing him. I cannot explain very well how much, but they were there on his mind, and it wasn't exactly ….. I don't know, but I feel Loki wasn't the only one responsible for what he did."

The Avengers were silent.

"You're saying he was mind-controlled?" Steve asked.

"I can't that it was that…but they were in him – fogging his mind. But he keeps trying to convince himself that it was all him, which makes it difficult to see to what degree those decisions were not his own… it's very obtuse, everything."

"And what about Thor and Asgard?"

Xavier told them of the little flashes he'd seen. The pool of blood. The fight and the screaming. Odin saying he would pay. It wasn't much, but now at least they knew for sure that Loki wasn't lying about his memory loss, and that in the last memory he had Thor was alive. That was good, even if it didn't give many clues of what may have happened to the God of Thunder. But Xavier had a theory.

"This… influence he was under in the invasion may be a clue. Maybe the connection didn't end here and he was influenced on Asgard, too, and when the connection was broken…"

"...it broke his mind, erased his memories." Steve finished. And then the two problems would be related. It was a possibility.

* * *

Knowing that he was on the verge of losing it completely, Loki had gone to the bathroom where he'd been in the morning and locked himself. He was he fell in one of the corners of the white room and put his knees to his chest, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to escape. Trying not to scream.

But it hurt.

Everything hurt.

His identity was falling apart. Sometimes he wished he had died back there, when he fell. And then his mind went back to Thor saying he'd mourned him, telling him to come back home, that they would be together. But that was the past. Whatever leftover feelings Thor have had for him where only in the past. He'd destroyed those feelings, destroyed anything positive people had ever felt for him, with each one of his acts. He asked JARVIS to put on something that would drown the noise.

And then he screamed and shattered everything that was on sight.

The mirrors, the counters, the perfume bottles. The pieces of it lay on the floor.

And he screamed.

And then sank to the floor, and cried. It was all too much. His life was broken. His mind was broken too. He had nothing and nobody left. He was haunted but what he remembered and what he didn't – by his own monstrous self and his treacherous mind. The words of the music JARVIS had blaring in the room reached him.

_Once I rose above the noise and confusion  
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion_

It had been all an illusion. All his damn life. He was never from Asgard, never a prince. Never had a father or a brother. Never. It was all an illusion, all very complicated lies. So he rebelled. And succeeded in nothing. He didn't finish with the Frost Giants. He was never respected as king. Never had any kind of authority in Asgard – and never any on Midgard, either. He thought he could be loved, at least, through force. But he saw it clearly now, when the noise and confusion ended.

All an illusion.

_Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man_

Would he ever be sane again? Would he ever be able to trust his mind again? Would he ever remember what he'd done?

_I hear the voices when I'm dreaming_

The voices, again. When he was still concerned about his brother, that man had to come and remind him of those terrible thoughts he'd had during his last attempt at grandeur. Those horrible sensations. The voices. The anger and the sadness. He wasn't even a proper conqueror. Not a king, not even a prince, not even a worthy opponent. They would pity him. All his speeches would seem stupid, another people's words.

_Masquerading as a man with a reason  
My charade is the event of the season_

Was there anything real anymore?

The door opened slightly and Stark appeared behind it. He had taken some meds and some alcohol for the god, expecting him to be in a terrible state. But he hadn't expected his bathroom to be in that terrible state.

The mirrors were broken, there was gel and shampoo everywhere, everything was thrown around and there was a trail of blood, starting in one of the broken glasses and finishing in… Loki. With his back to the wall, and the eyes closed, pale, bleeding and crying, just as the music said

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more._

He sat next to him, just as Steve had done when they found him on SHIELD, and offered a glass, again. It was his default behavior, offering alcohol. His defense and distraction.

"Scotch?"

Loki opened his eyes and saw Stark next to him, with a glass of alcohol.

"I thought this door was closed." He said, tired.

"I am sorry, sir." JARVIS's cool voice said. "But Mr. Stark's override all other orders."

Loki took the glass and drank a bit.

"I don't know what that Professor has said, Stark but I am not a victim. I was fully aware of what I did. I threw you out of a window. I almost killed Thor and I did kill your Agent friend. I believe his name was Phil." He was not a pawn. He had a mind of his own. And he was most certainly not a good man. He was evil. If they took that away from him, what would he had left?

"Actually, you didn't kill him. It was just a lie Fury told us to get us more motivated."

"Now I can't even kill off properly a mortal. Pathetic."

"Hey, don't sell yourself so short. You did cause quite a fuss. Like here." He said, pointing at the many broken things in his previously immaculate bathroom.

"I'm sorry about your bathroom, Stark. You have been so kind and I am nothing but a terrible guest."

Tony shrugged – he had three other bathrooms in that floor alone. It was no biggie.

"Don't worry about it. I have destroyed a fair share of rooms myself. I know the feeling."

They stayed like that for a bit, while the music still blared around them.

_All of those you loved you mistrust_

_Help me, I'm just not quite myself _ (well, that sounded appropriate for a certain god, didn't it?)

_Look around, there no one else left._

Tony looked around and saw that, indeed, there was no one else left. And he was the one that was the least uncomfortable around Loki, so it was probably up to him. To do something.

"So… the invasion. The Chitauri. You wanna talk about it?"

"I most certainly do not." He said, and his slightly voice betrayed the pain he felt. All the horror from the mortals finding out had distracted him of his pains for a bit, but they were back there. Loki shakily took the medicine Stark had brought with him, hoping for some relief.

"Well, if you ever do, we're here. I know what's like to have mind problems too, you know. To do things without realizing it and then know that you're out of control. Once I wrote _help me_ to a kid when I was supposed to sign an autograph. It was quite creepy."

Loki seemed unimpressed, swallowed the pills and tried to clean his face for the umpteenth time.

"What I mean" Tony continued." Is that you can talk if you want to. It quite obvious that what you're going through is not easy, and sometimes it helps to have someone around."

"But I am a criminal. Only valuable for the information I might have."

_Shut up, shut up, shut up! _He had meant to be proud and whole and detached. He had meant to be Loki, of Asgard, the rightful king of… But not even him could believe those lies anymore. He was no king. He was merely a trickster – the shell of one without his magic. He was too tired to continue inventing. He had no reason to lie anymore.

"You're a criminal. Big whoop. Bruce is a green rage monster, I used to sell weapons for a living, Romanoff is an assassin… I would go on, but I think I made my point."

"So, suddenly, all is forgiven?"

Loki said, looking at him with those bright red-rimmed green eyes. Those pain-filled eyes. And Tony looked and knew there was so much more than a common criminal behind them. So much more.

"Of course not. But the guys and I, we think that it could an interesting time to… well, review your case. We thought you killed Coulson and those were SHIELD's lies. Then the very same guys find you and don't tell us anything until they tortured the hell out of you. This is not as easy as it may appear."

Loki looked sad, defeated. And then the music around them said -

_No one knows what it's like  
To be mistreated, to be defeated_

"JARVIS, what is this music?"

"Our guest asked for something to drown his... issues and I decided to put some music – I selected some tracks I thought he could enjoy." Tony mouth flew open.

"You made Loki a mix tape? Seriously? You've never made me a mix tape."

Loki drew the smallest of smiles.

"Congratulations, pal, my AI likes you better than me."

But Loki could barely keep his eyes open, feeling the combined effect of the medication and the alcohol in his weakened system. He had only slept a couple of hours and was so, so tired. Of everything. Of everyone. His eyes closed, slowly and his head fell on Tony's shoulder.

_Lay your weary head to rest_

_Don't you cry no more_

Tony mouthed the familiar words as he felt the too-hot head of the alien fall into his shoulder. Having Loki as a guest was proving to be a hell of a rollercoaster, but he didn't mind. He looked at the broken mirrors, at the things thrown in rage and remembered the times he'd done the same thing. The same state places had after the Hulk had been there. Maybe Loki wasn't all that different from them.

After a while, the music died down and Loki was softly wheezing in his sleep. Not exactly a good sign (it was a very asthmatic sounding wheeze) but Tony decided to let the man sleep. He deserved some peace after the hellish months he'd lived since he appeared back on earth.

Steve appeared on the door and looked surprised at the mess the room was in. Then he looked at Stark, sitting against a wall with Loki slumped over him. Tony was carefully trying to stem the bleeding from the cuts Loki had gotten smashing crystal things, while trying not to wake him up. He motioned for Steve to be silent.

"He's sleeping." He whispered and Steve nodded. Still he had to speak.

"We've got a problem, Stark." Steve whispered back.

"Can't it wait?" Steve shook his head and continued whispering.

"Fury's downstairs. He's saying if we don't hand Loki over they will charge with collaborating with a terrorist. They're trying to break down your door."

"Can't you handle it? I'm on pillow duty."

"All right. Just thought you should know."

Steve left, determined not to yield to Fury's demands. He would be glad to be leading the resistance against Fury and their men. Loki was magicless, ill and injured – and these men were coming at them with guns. That was a bully in his books. And if there was something he hated, it was bullies.

Tony ordered JARVIS to close the door and not open it again, to anyone, until he said so.

Criminal or not, killer or not, there was no way he was handing Loki to his torturers.

No way in hell.

A/N: What is this, I don't even, what -

So, more whump. Lots of it. Only traces of plot in there. But I assume you recognized at least one of the songs?

Anyways, reviews are always lovely. Do tell if you liked this chapter. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

He was afraid. Loki was on that cell, the same cell as usual. Chained to the table, trying to avoid his own reflection. He felt sick. He felt useless and pathetic and immensely depressed. Most of all, he wanted to die. He was tired of Odin, of Thor and his allies, tired of Midgard, of Jotunheim, but most of all tired of himself. Life was too much, life was too wrong. He hated it. And he felt he was going to be there forever, in that little interrogation room. Chained, unable to move, trying to hold himself together while those mortals did whatever they wanted to him. There was an unspeakable sadness that filled him whole, that made every breath agony. He didn't want to be alive. He didn't want to be Loki. And yet, there was no one else he could be.

That man appeared again, Fury, with the very familiar one eye and eye patch. And he took him by his neck and forced him to look at his reflection. He hated it. Hated the red rimmed eyes staring back at him, the bloated (at least in his mind) thing his face had become. What lay behind that face. Hated, hated, hated. He wanted to be himself again, wanted to be powerful, and feared and proud. A god. But now he was trapped. Now he had no magic, and the words of his _interrogators _were slowly infiltrating his mind. Every day a bit more.

_Worthless_

_Waste of space_

_Useless piece of intergalactic crap_

_I'll be so glad the day we can be rid of you for good – there will be parades everywhere_

_Monster_

_There is nothing worthwhile about you: NOTHING!_

He looked again at his reflection and saw shadows behind him saying those things. The people he once thought were his family. The people who now hated the very memory of him.

_Hate – hate –HATE._

Tony saw Loki moaning and breathing rapidly at his side, and knew instantly what was happening. Nightmares. Nightmares following you no matter where you went. He was no stranger to them, and knew how much they could affect you. How real they could feel and how bad you felt afterwards. He tried to wake the man, worried that Loki could be reliving his torture. Called his name, softly slapped his cheek. No answer.

There was a voice in Loki's cell, a voice that sounded vaguely familiar, but that he couldn't quite place. And then there was water on his face, and his eyes flew open.

"Sorry about that, pal. Had to wake you, you didn't seem to be having much fun."

Loki looked around him, confused, and couldn't recognize where he was. But he was in pain - so much pain. He dried his face with a towel Stark handed him.

"The cell…"

"We took you out, remember? You're not there anymore." Tony said, hoping to see some recognition in the green eyes. Some sign that he remembered what had happened those last couple of days.

Loki's face suddenly changed and he bit his lip so hard he drew hands clutched his somach with force but it was no comfort. He looked up to the white ceiling, trying to forget the pain, trying to will it away – it was impossible.

"Your stomach acting up again?" Stark said, and his voice sounded strangely distant this time.

"The pain is spreading… I-"

He closed his eyes and the world was only pain and hurt and that look of betrayal and Odin hating him and Thor hating him too and –

He could not stop the tears and Tony was a bit anxious, because they were supposed to be making up for Fury, and for all the shit the Chitauri had done to the guy and still, the only thing they could seem to do was look at him and at how deep in shit he was.

"And you have no idea of why you're in pain all the time? What has caused this?"

Loki shook his head. Amongst all the flashes and bits he'd seen, there wasn't one that explained what could be wrong with him. Why there was so much pain. No reason. Maybe this was simply what he deserved for turning on the people he was supposed to love.

Tony sighed.

"JARVIS, how's the situation out there?"

"Problem is solved, sir. Professor Xavier convinced Fury to leave before he himself left and made him think that Loki had escaped. Fury's heading to Canada right now, with a division of Special Agents."

"Good."

He look at his guest, whose face still was the picture of agony.

"Loki, can you walk?"

The god nodded.

"Perfect. You said you could build some communication with Asgard, right?" Loki nodded, again. "At this moment, I think that's the only thing that will give us some answers. I was going to give you a couple of days to recover, but… I'm starting to think you won't last that long."

Loki got up, even if the world became blurry as he did so.

Steve greeted them as they got out and told them about how they got rid of Fury and his agent. Loki simply had no strength for chatting. If he wanted to build the connection properly he was going to need all his energy and all his fleeting concentration. He had to be perfect, or would miss his only chance at knowing what happened. The uncertainty was becoming unbearable. It had to come to an end.

Banner gave him more of that medicine, even if it hardly had any effect anymore. At least, it was better than nothing. Stark took him to a laboratory kind of room, and with the help of JARVIS he got everything he needed. Stark helped too, and Rogers to bring the things in, help him know how the things he sought were called in that planet.

The most important thing happened to be an emerald, that opened a sort of window to Asgard after putting the right amount of radiation and electricity to it. When Loki had been younger, he'd spread the green gems across the realms he visited, to spy them whenever he wanted. He had to interrupt himself sometimes, when the pain reappeared, but managed to get it working. When the emerald reacted, it opened and showed an image of an elegant room, like someplace of a palace.

Steve's eyes widened.

"What the…"

Tony was amazed too, and tried to explain how that could even be possible while avoiding the concept of magic. This was just too incredible.

"Is there anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?" Loki said into the window. Hoping that somebody would hear him. Hoping that thy would give him those answers he so desperately needed.

And suddenly there was a woman in the screen, with a confused look on her face that said _how can this be happening_ very similar to Steve's. Loki knew that face.

"Sif! Can you hear me?"

"What is this trickery? Who are you and why are you wearing Loki's face?"

"It is me, Sif, truly. I need you to tell me-"

"I will tell you nothing, shadow." The lady on the other side said. Steve spoke up.

"We only want to know a few things. I am Steve Rogers, from Earth, I have worked with Thor. We wanted to know if he's all right – he's been missing for months and we are worried. Loki doesn't remember anything."

"And before you say anything else." Tony added "Yes, it's him, we had a mind reader here that saw his memories, the invasion and Odin and all. Now, is Thor around?"

But Sif was still unconvinced, so Loki had to come up with something else. A way of proving it was him.

"Sif, remember that time when you defeated Thor in the mountains? There was only the three of us, and you suggested a fight. When you came back to your chambers, there was a silver and green dagger in your room, wrapped in the pages of your favourite book. You thought Thor gave it to you as a gift, to honor your victory. It wasn't him, it was me. Remember how Thor didn't recognise it? Now, how would I know about the dagger or its wrapping, that only you saw, if it wasn't me?"

Sif hesitated but was more convinced. Those men were very similar to the ones Thor had described to her. It all seemed real.

"Thor and his Lady friend are here. But we thought you gone forever, Loki."

"Why?"

And just then another terrible pain broke him and he doubled over, trying to hold back the scream that was forming in his throat. It was too much. His stomach was burning and it was spreading to his lungs, too. His eyes watered again – he tried to stand again because he needed to talk to Sif but couldn't. He was being broken. Being burned out, from the inside out. Suddenly, his knees were on the floor and there were blue eyes next to him, trying to give him some comfort.

While that terrifying scene played itself, Tony tried to speak to the Asgardian on the other side, but the connection was breaking down.

"Do you know why Loki is like this?"

"….Don't….. And the flames…. Condition…"

The emerald fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.

Tony was vaguely aware that Steve had pulled Loki to a deep embrace to try to comfort him, while the Asgardian screamed, tears falling down. It was the only thing he could think of in that moment. Loki clinged to the calming presence of the soldier, hoping for some comfort on the agony. Maybe he could actually imagine he was back in the past, when Thor didn't hate him. When Thor didn't abandon him to his torturers. A nicer sunnier past. But no. That was too much. The Captain said soothing words, said it would be all right.

And then the pain filled his head, and he tasted blood in his mouth. He wept silently and abruptly became limp in Steve's arms, blood coming out of his mouth. And Steve's eyes watered too – this was too much. They had rescued him from torture and all for what? To see him die in excruciating pain? It was not fair. Not fair at all.

* * *

In the great palace of Asgard, Sif ran and kept running. This changed so many things – and explained others. Thor needed to know. She didn't know how he would take the news that his brother still lived but she needed to tell him. It was important.

"Thooor! Thor!"

The thunderer was on a balcony, looking at Asgard with a melancholic expression on his face. It had been a rough last few months. Thor wasn't sure of what to do, of what to say of what to think. Everything had changed so many times – what he thought was true seemed a lie and then dissolved in smoke. He didn't know what to do or to feel or what was true anymore. And then he heard Sif calling his name, with urgency.

"What is it, Sif?"

"Thor! I bring news! Your brother is alive! Alive!"

Thor eyes widened. Part of him had always expected Loki to be alive – even if the rest of the world told him he was gone. Even Heimdall. It seemed impossible. But it wouldn't be first time they thought Loki dead only to find him again.

"What? How can you know?"

"I talked to him with one of those devices he used to spy other worlds, the ones with the green gems, remember? I am sure it is him, Thor. He's alive and in Midgard, I think, with your warrior friends. But Thor…"

"I must speak to him immediately. I will prepare the means to travel and…"

"Thor! Let me finish! There is more… I – I saw him and I fear…I think that he has got your condition and that it is on its last stages. That he transferred it to himself somehow."

Thor frowned. Why would Loki do such a thing? It had been a relief, of course, when the condition disappeared. He thought it had been the experiments the Lady Jane had conducted the ones that had freed him, but now he wasn't so sure. And then it struck him. The adverse effects, the problems it had created in other species. And Loki was a jotun…

"No, no, no – if he has it…"

"It will mean he doesn't have much time." Sif ended for him.

"I have to go to him, Sif. Even if I can I only see him die… I have to – Sif, please, I know we spent months researching in and there was nothing, but… keep looking, please. I will not let Loki die for something that is my fault."

Back in New York, Loki was slowly fading in a bed in Stark Tower. He was awake now, but the fever had made him incoherent, unfocused, delirious. He was sweaty, the black hair glued to his face and neck, but cold, afraid, in pain, ignoring where he was, ignoring who he was even. Sometimes he called for his mother, others he asked whoever was tending to him to have mercy and kill him. It was a terrible thing to watch. The green eyes kept shining, vividly.

Steve and Tony looked at him, a bit sad. They didn't know what to do anymore. That guy was probably going to die and they could do nothing. Only look up in the sky – and hope that something good would happen.

Steve prayed, but it was not the god he was praying to who answered.

There was thunder and there was sound and broken glass. Suddenly, a very blond and muscly figure stood before them, hammer in hand.

"Friends.. It is good to see you again."

A/n: Have I completely ruined this already? Yes? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, if the only the slightest bits. I think I have a kink called "Steve hugs Loki when he's in terrible distress".

If you want to see happier sick Loki you can check out my other new story "Still ill". It's sweeter. This is getting a bit tragic. But maybe you prefer tragic….That's lovely, too. :)

Reviews make an author happy ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Thor looked at the room – and it was darker than anything that he'd ever seen.

His friends were there, the man of iron and the captain of America – and so was his brother.

Loki.

_I have lost you so many times, and yet you always come back to me._

Loki.

But he didn't look like the Loki he'd known, the Loki he'd feared – the Loki he had even hated. No, this Loki was distressed, lightly sleeping in beads of sweat, kicking the sheets, eyes closed with force, ill. This was the Loki from the time when they were kids and he had nightmares and mysterious sicknesses and Thor played the big brother. This was the Loki that cared not about war or anything like that. A Loki who only wanted some water, because he was thirsty. A Loki who looked at him through glassy eyes and told him _thanks_ for staying with him and not going hunting with his friends.

He approached his brother with a heavy heart. Sif had warned him that Loki was ill, but… Seeing him like that… He'd always imagined that Loki's end would come in battle. Part of him hoped they would be on the same side, although he knew that was not very realistic. But this… the excessively warm face, the sweat, the pained expresion, even in his sleep. This was not how Loki was supposed to go – like a child, scared, diseased. No, Loki was meant for something much more grand.

Thor also noticed things that were not supposed to be there, things that weren't caused by any symptom of the condition. Wounds, bruises, abrasions. He caressed his brother's too-hot cheek and Loki moaned, moving in his uneasy sleep. He vaguely registered the Captain talking to him.

"….good to see you, Thor. We were getting worried."

"What happened to Loki?" Asked Thor, ignoring Rogers. "Did you fight him? Why is he this badly wounded?"

Tony and Steve looked at each other. Neither of them wanted to tell the god of thunder that his little brother had been tortured. They knew he would be angry, and Thor's anger was not something they were looking forward to. But anything that was not the truth would only infuriate him more.

"It was SHIELD. The company we worked for last time we were here. Fury and his agents." Steve started.

"_They _fought Loki?"

That would've been a more ideal scenario.

"Not exactly. They found him and took him in… prisoner. But he wouldn't answer to the questions they had, so they… well, you can imagine the rest." Tony said, looking everywhere but at Thor.

The god slammed his fist, effectively creating a crater in one of the walls. The implication of Stark's word was soemthing he didn't like. Not one bit.

"We didn't know." Tony was quick to add. "Soon as we found out we sprung him out of there. Whatever he's done, that's out of the line, what they did to him. And it was pretty obvious that the guy needed some medical attention."

Thor looked at him.

"And Loki didn't fight SHIELD? Why?"

There was a terrible sadness in Thor's eyes. One thing was not wanting to see his brother hurting other people and another was knowing he was helplessly being hurt. That was too much. That was also not Loki.

"So… Thor, before you tell us what's been going on… Do you have anything to help him? Any kind of pain reliever? He's developed some sort of immunity to the ones I've been giving him…" Bruce said, awkward as usual. But he also wanted Thor to know that they hadn't just let Loki writhe in pain, that they had given him something, took care of him.

"I do."

Thor still had some leftover potion Eir had given him for his pains, from when he was afflicted with the disease. He'd thought of getting rid of it when he found himself miraculously cured but the Lady Jane told him to keep it, in case he had a relapse. Now, maybe, it could give Loki some relief.

But he had to awaken him first. He approached his brother and softly spoke to him.

"Loki? Loki, you need to wake up."

The sheer familiarity of the voice woke Loki up. It was a voice he'd heard a thousand times, a voice that had taken him out of many nightmares, tended to his fevers. A voice he'd heard since he had memory. The voice of a brother.

"Thor… you're here."

"I am, brother. Now I need you to sit up, I have something for your pain."

The words were sweeter than those of an angel. Thor was there, and he was alive, and he was going to relieve his pain. There were tears in his eyes – tears of joy.

"Sit, please, Loki. I need you to drink this."

Thor was fuzzy and blurry and very out of focus, but it was him. It was his voice, and he would recognize it anywhere in the whole nine realms. And Loki did so, without much hesitation but a lot of effort. The others just watched as Thor caringly cradled his brother's head and gave him the green liquid he had with him.

"With Eir's best wishes."

It wasn't true, Eir had brewed this potion for him, not Loki, but Thor couldn't bear seeing Loki in such a pitiful state, and was trying to comfort Loki in any way he could. Maybe if he thought that there was people in Asgard that still appreciated him it would easy the pain in his heart. Sadly, Thor could see that not only his brother's body was suffering, but his mind as well. He thought of the time he'd spent in this planet, in prison, treated terribly by those SHIELD people, probably being insulted. As id Loki didn't have enough of self-worth problems. Loki had the uncanny ability of remembering every bad word and every let-down from him or his father, but dismissed the good things they'd done for him.

Loki closed his eyes again, but they seemed to smiling. It was the most happy the Avengers had seen him since he was back on Earth. But Thor was sad. He couldn't believe he had left Loki be tortured and abandoned in a strange planet, on the hands of enemies. No matter what he had done, he was still family. He would always be. And Thor was the only one Loki had left anymore. He'd tried not caring about him, but it didn't work.

He watched him as he slept.

"So, Thor…. Can you fill us in on what the hell has happened? Why has your amnesic brother appeared on earth without his magic and why he's become so depressive?" Tony asked.

"Amnesic?" The others nodded.

"It is a lengthy tale." Thor said, as only answer.

So they went to the living room, telling JARVIS to warn them if Loki showed some changes. Thor started his lengthy tale, trying to sum it up as much as possible.

"I brought the Lady Jane to Asgard… and we were attacked. I was infected with an incurable disease. I was using Loki to help against this new foe, before it was too late… but he betrayed us. Then our enemy betrayed him – and they started fighting each other, it was… bloody, very bloody. And then they disappeared, the both of them, and there was only blood left and our All-seer couldn't see them anymore."

Thor sighed. He remembered mourning Loki, but also thinking it could be good, since he wouldn't be around anymore to betray him and spoil e the few good memories he had left of him. He thought he couldn't do any more good. He was wrong.

"And then I was suddenly cured, and the only thing Heimdall could see were traces of blood, so we were convinced that Loki had perished after killing our enemy. But now he is here, and he has the illness I used to have… and you tell me he has no memories…"

"He was afraid he had killed you." Tony said. "And a bit confused about why he had sad at all. But he still loves you, that much is clear."

Thor ran his hands through his hair, confused but glad that Loki still lived, even if he was in a bad condition.

"Friends, I…. I appreciate the hospitality you'd shown my brother. You were there for him when even most needed it, when even I forsook him. I will not forget this kindness."

"We were happy to help." Steve said, and smiled.

As he watched Loki, the picture of calm and pale beauty in his bed, he nodded. He deserved this – and so did Thor. A new chance.

* * *

Sif looked through old parchments while Eir read ancient books, both women desperately searching for a cure, something they had missed the last time. Sif had lied. She'd said Thor was again sick, fearing that if she said it was Loki the healer wouldn't help her. She didn't know why she was doing this.

Maybe it was for Thor's sake. Maybe she'd grown too fond of Loki.

But one thing she knew – they weren't going to lose this fight if she had a say in it.

* * *

It was already night and his friend were discussing something about chemistry in one of Stark's lab. They had taken a sample of Thor's potion and were trying to duplicate it. Steve and Natasha were doing some more thing to keep SHIELD far away and Thor was on his brother's bedside, holding his pale hand.

He had awoken some hours before, and threw up some blood while looking at him with teary eyes. Thor held his shaking frame and said soothing words, hoping to be able to do more. He couldn't.

At last, Loki fell asleep again.

And Thor had to see it. He needed it to see to understand the state of Loki – because the one he'd seen last on Asgard and this one bore no resemblance. He had to see it, no matter how much it hurt.

"Machine, JARVIS. Do you have images of Loki's time after he was found by SHIELD?"

"I do, sir. But I would not advise.."

"Show them to me."

"All right."

It was a nightmare.

He saw Loki crying and being insulted. He saw his brother not wanting to see his own reflection but being forced. He saw his brother weep, and be hurt in every possible way. For days, and days and days. It hurt. It hurt bad.

While the footage kept rolling, two silent tears went down the cheeks of the god of thunder.

A/N: Why have plot when you can have gratuitous brother bonding and whump?

Hope you liked!

Reviews are always lovelyyy ;)

I eagerly await your thoughts.


End file.
